The Dothraki Slayer III

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POV of Tybero third- sixth moon 285 AC

Observing the massacre that had happened, I noticed that the masked man was retrieving the daggers he had thrown at his victims.

"Was this always the plan... to kill those who don't cooperate?" I asked, tired, watching the man's reaction.

"No, Lothar's plan was to cooperate, but when he saw the state of the camp, he decided to kill all the captains to take control. I acted and did my job of being the voice of reason and proposed this. If the captains understood reason and handed over command to a veteran and proven commander, they would have lived, but they chose to think with pride and died," he responded with an emotionless voice.

"You know this will be a big problem. It affects Myr's prestige, and they might demand our heads... and mine," I said annoyed.

"Look on the bright side. The city punished mercenaries who didn't cooperate and were only after their gold, disappearing afterward. Besides, there's no need to report what happened here immediately. Only we know what happened, and we can determine that it would take about fifteen days for the rumor to spread. If someone spills the beans, if no one does, no one finds out, and no one gets hurt. We could even say they died gloriously fighting for Myr against the Dothraki," said the man with wolf pelts, cleaning his knives on the clothes of the dead.

"I have to inform the city..." I said, but the bright green eyes of the masked man fixed on me.

That would be a very foolish decision... so foolish that you might end up dead... isn't that right, my late friend? Yes, that would be very stupid, but he would join me," said the masked man, then played with the dead man's jaw and changed his tone of voice.

"Are you threatening me?" I said with a serious tone.

"Yes... so avoid the drama. I'll tell you when it's a good time to report. Now, we must focus on the new enemy, the Dothraki. We have little time, and we must start as soon as possible. The sooner we work, the more chances we have of defeating the Dothraki," replied the mysterious man with an emotionless tone, then spoke to me again in a friendly manner.

"Ah, well... what are we going to do now? What's the brilliant strategy that will make us win against the Dothraki? I need to know what we're going to do to coordinate with those who speak languages you don't," I said, sitting in my chair.

"Don't worry, I speak many languages and am very good at learning new ones. You saw it yourself. The strategy is simple, not brilliant, but it shows that hard work yields more results than an attack. Take the shovel," said the man with the wolf's head.

"The shovel? What for?" I said somewhat surprised.

"I thought you were a military commander... you're disappointing me. It's very simple. The Dothraki, all their battle tactics depend on mobility, attacking flanks and weak points, attacking and retreating, or chasing those who escape. Everything requires a lot of mobility. What we're going to do is start digging trenches strategically across the hills and later extending them to the Dothraki Sea and finally into the lands of Myr to deny them mobility."

"Before the khalasars arrive, we'll start burning every last blade of grass, denying any food to the Dothraki's multiple horses, only leaving in certain areas that we must determine, allowing us to ambush or attack them with tactical superiority. But first, it's the trenches. If necessary, we'll fill the hills with these to block their passage and multiple patrols to attack those who try to build bridges in the trenches, deny them everything, and force them to retreat, something acceptable for the city of Myr," said the man with green eyes.

"I thought we would do something bolder... like directly attacking the khals when they try to cross the Rhoyne?" I said a bit disappointed.

"Confront the enemy where they are strongest? At their maximum combat capability? Don't be foolish... we wear them down, prevent them from using their horses freely, attack them when they seek food and water for their horses, wait for mistakes and attack, or simply lead them to our selected battlefield. Fabian tactics. If they almost defeated Hannibal Barca, they can handle these barbarians. But none of that can be achieved if we don't get to work as soon as possible," the man with the wolf's head concluded, pointing me towards the exit of the tent.

I left the tent and found that the army of Westerosi mercenaries had taken control of the camp and had all the mercenaries gathered where they were giving them a message.

"Your mad commanders are dead. From now on, you will serve under our orders, but you are free to leave whenever you want, just as we are free to kill you on the spot. You will split into two groups and go find your new service teams," echoed from several sides by men wearing wolf pelts.

It didn't take long for the entire camp to take shape, as the first orders were to reorganize the camp around the Westerosi mercenaries' camp.

It took us two days, but we finally had a camp in conditions for a long stay, as even latrines connected to the Lhorulo River were built.

To finally distribute the army into three groups.

Two groups were the mercenary captains who escaped the massacre, starting the construction of trenches to the north, as we almost made the first mistake of the campaign because the Westerosi mercenaries didn't know that to the south was a city inhabited by stone men, and the Dothraki dare to pass through there. Even if the Dothraki go further south, they will encounter Volantis and then Lys, so the problem wasn't directly ours.

So all the excavation work was directed north and east, where thousands of mercenaries began to dig trenches five meters deep and ten wide to defend the terrain.

While the third group, consisting of the Westerosi mercenaries, dedicated themselves to turning the hills into observatories with their spyglasses so that if a Dothraki crosses the river, we could know well in advance and at the same time build basic fortifications on all paths that could easily cross the hills towards Myr.

For a month, the routine of digging kilometers of trenches was repeated entirely. One noticeable thing was that the Westerosi mercenaries left all the heavy work to the other mercenaries, while they took care of missions to fortify the hills and at the same time kept an eye on all the fords that the river could be crossed, awaiting the arrival of the Dothraki.

But in the second month, the real test began. River scouts alerted that a group of riders was approaching, and they would be here soon. Up to that point, we had a double trench system that blocked about fifty percent of the terrain we needed to defend against the Dothraki. We were short on time.

Luckily, it was a small group that barely exceeded a dozen men. The Westerosi men only ordered the work to continue, and Lothar himself went to face the Dothraki. I accompanied the Westerosi to see how this would end.

The Westerosi knights wore plate armor that protected them from any damage they might suffer, and even their horses had padded armor and eye protectors. While other followers wore minimal armor, only skins and their bows.

"Go on foot, that will provoke them, and they will attack you head-on, not trying to outmaneuver you with their agile horses," his companion said to Lothar.

Lothar said nothing and dismounted, walking towards the Dothraki with a spear in his hand while his great sword was in its sheath.

The Dothraki stayed watching our forces and charged against Lothar wielding their arakhs. Lothar was calm, even when ten riders charged at him.

Lothar took his spear and threw it with great force, aiming at the lead Dothraki rider. The spear pierced the horse and caused several riders to fall off their mounts, as their horses collided with the impaled horse by Lothar's spear.

Several of the Dothraki fell, but three continued charging at Lothar. I heard the bows of the men wearing wolf pelts tense and release a lethal barrage of arrows against the three riders.

Lothar took off his helmet and showed a surprised face.

"Are these the ones who almost destroyed the Free Cities?" Lothar asked, walking towards the pile of horse and riders he had caused.

"There were a little over ten; it's not the same when you face more than fifteen thousand at once," I replied to Lothar.

"They don't wear armor, nothing protects them, not even from arrows... our crossbows will pierce them like the chickens we roasted this morning... what prestige will we gain by defeating these nomads?" said Lothar angrily while trying to find something among the bodies.

"We're not here for glory or prestige, Lothar... Don't forget. Anyone alive?" Lothar's companion asked approaching him.

"Two," Lothar replied, moving the horses that had two Dothraki trapped.

"I want one to send the message of what awaits... to see if we can scare some of them and they prefer to invite us to plunder this year," said Lothar.

"Ah... well... heads or tails," said the man with wolf pelts, taking out a coin.

Lothar pulled out the trapped Dothraki and lifted them by their clothes and braids, showing them.

"This is heads, and this is tails," said Lothar.

A coin was tossed into the air.

"Heads," said Lothar's companion.

Lothar threw one of the Dothraki to his companion, who quickly tied him up with a rope.

Lothar cleared his throat.

"Yes, yes... go and tell your companions that this time it won't be so easy to plunder Myr. Tell them what you saw today, tell them that this time they will bleed rivers if they set foot on these lands again... well, there it is, cutting their braid is the ultimate humiliation for a Dothraki," said the man with wolf pelts in dotharaki tongue

Lothar dropped the Dothraki who was struggling to free himself and pulled out his dagger. He cut the braid of the Dothraki and kicked him in the abdomen before turning back to us.

"Start setting fire to everything; not a blade of grass should be left to the north and south," Lothar said to his men, and they began to take out a liquid and spray it over the extensive plain.

Finally, we returned to the camp while large black clouds rose.

The following days were characterized by the arrival of more and more Dothraki in small bands, as well as skirmishes along the trench between patrols and Dothraki trying to breach the defenses we built. This was genuinely difficult because there were constantly large clouds of black smoke that hindered the view from our observatory in the hills. And a problem arose with the other mercenaries, as we were losing several in skirmishes against the Dothraki. Many didn't know how to use the bow or crossbows, and although they had a significant advantage fighting against the Dothraki, the Dothraki were more skillful with their bows when exchanging projectiles along the trenches.

So Lothar ordered that everyone should practice using the bow, sling, or crossbow and ordered the construction of a second trench, this time to use it as a defensive platform and give more protection to the mercenaries, although for the moment they were taking many risks while continuing to dig.

A week after the first encounter, Lothar sent a cart to Myr loaded with Dothraki braids and the news of what he did. It was funny how the leaders of the city's reaction slowly changed.

At first, they wanted Lothar's head for what happened, but Lothar only sent Dothraki braids to the city every day. This changed to him receiving punishment later. When they received more shipments, they sent a message that Lothar should continue doing the same, finally sending a message that if he needed anything for the defense of the hills, he should let them know.

Myr's politicians were not blind and noticed that, although troublesome, Lothar was necessary for the moment if they wanted to defeat the Dothraki. Something that was necessary because on the other side of the trenches, there was a group exceeding thousands of Dothraki who wanted to pass, but the defenses we had prevented it, and a large khalasar had not arrived yet.

But who would have thought that we would have more problems from the rear than from the Dothraki we fought every day.

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